On a sigh, the child nodded. “Okay.”
The ready agreement caught Jada off guard. Unsure if she’d heard right, she continued pinning up the hem.
As she worked, Fancy toyed with the tight curls tumbling across Jada’s forehead. Delicate fingers trailed across her crown with the curiosity of a blind man learning braille. Whenever they were together, the child found ways to make a physical connection.
“Which shoes do you like best?” Fancy asked her.
“I was about to ask you the same question.”
“You first.”
The invitation to lend an opinion was heartwarming. Eager to comply, Jada smoothed her palm across the soft bodice of the dress. The bodice would soon receive added glam once the Sirens hand-sewed Chanel faux jewels to the fabric.
“I love the taupe slippers. They’re a perfect match for the top part of your dress. And they’re elegant.” Prepared to be shot down by an independent little girl, she added, “The pink shoes are nice too, even though they’re more casual. So are the silver pumps, but I’m worried about you walking around in heels—even teeny-tiny heels.”
“I don’t like the silver ones,” Fancy confided. “I like the color pink. I like it a lot.”
“I know you do, girlfriend.”
On the couch, Norah swirled impatient fingers through the air. “May the angels equip us all with survival skills when Fancy prepares for her first high school prom. Brain surgery is easier than getting her to settle on an outfit. Jada, I’ll give you points for patience. Get the child to decide, and I’ll spring for the champagne—and help you drink it.”
“What’s champagne?” Fancy asked her.
“The perfect reward for women who’ve spent too much time kowtowing to an obstinate first grader.”
“What’s obstinate?”
“You, my dear. And don’t ask for the definition of kowtow—I’m not a dictionary.” From the end table, Norah snatched up a magazine to fan away her agitation. The attempt didn’t appear successful. “If not for Jada’s patience with you, most of the Sirens would’ve pulled out their hair by now. I know I would have.”
The remark put the light of battle in Fancy’s gaze. “Jada’s patient because she loves me.” She gave Jada’s bent head a few benevolent pats, as if she’d located her favorite puppy in the pet store. Then she announced, “I’ve decided, Jada. I’ll wear the shoes you like.”
“You will?”
“Yep.”
“No games, kiddo. You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
Careful to hide her delight, Jada finished pinning the satin. She began working on the shimmering tulle. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we curl your hair for Linnie’s big day, and pull some of it back from your face?” If Fancy was experiencing the first pliable mood of her young life, it seemed a waste not to play it to greater advantage. “I’ll bet Norah will sew a smaller bow to match the one on the back of your dress. You can wear it in your hair.”
Tossing down the magazine, Norah clapped her hands. “A splendid idea! A matching bow in her hair will be perfect. Fancy, would you like to visit the beauty salon on the morning of the wedding? You can go with Jada, Linnie, and Cat. They’ve already scheduled their appointments.”
The suggestion sent Fancy’s attention back to Jada. “Can we put on our dresses at my house after the salon? Let’s get ready with Daddy.”
The ceremony was scheduled to begin at one o’clock, on the new patio behind the inn’s ballroom. Jada had planned to dress at Cat’s new home on Highland Avenue. They’d have ample room to help Linnie with her gown and makeup.
“Why don’t I take you back with me to Cat’s house?” She finished pinning the tulle layer, and helped Fancy step out of the dress. “I’m sure your daddy won’t mind. He can meet us at the Wayfair.”
“I have to dress up at home. My babies want to watch.”
On the day of the wedding, there wouldn’t be time to drag all of Fancy’s baby dolls and stuffed animals across town. “They’ll understand if you get ready at Cat’s house. We’ll take a picture. You can show it to them later.”
“But I promised them. Why can’t we get ready at my house?”
“Sweetie, I’m the maid of honor.” Jada reached for the child’s play clothes, helped her shrug the T-shirt over her head. “It’s my job to help Linnie on her wedding day.”
“Why isn’t it your job to help me and Daddy? We need you too.”
Appearing in the doorway, Philip said, “Fancy, she’s given you an answer. Stop badgering her.”
Padding her hand beneath the coffee table, Jada located his daughter’s tennis shoes. She’d assumed Philip wasn’t joining them for the light dinner. In a best-case scenario, she’d hoped to leave before he arrived to collect Fancy. They hadn’t spoken since last night. Throughout the day, Philip and his men had completed the installation of the sandstone for the patio, and then began planting boxwood around the perimeter. Given the demands of his schedule, she’d had no trouble avoiding him.
With an indecisive step, he started toward her. The cool glance she sent brought him to a halt.
“I’m early,” he told her.
“By an hour.” Rising from the floor, Jada plunked into a chair.
“Should I come back later?”
“Maybe you should.”
Hurt sifted through his features. “You’re asking me to leave?”
The pointed question threw all eyes on her. Pinpricks of embarrassment tingled across her face.
She guided Fancy into her lap. “Philip, I’m not in charge of your schedule,” she said. “Do whatever you like.”
“Fine. I’m going.”
“Okay.”
Planting his feet, he crossed his arms. “I have a better idea.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “Why don’t we take a walk?”
A wary silence thickened the air. Norah, frowning at the interchange, reached for the magazine. She resumed fanning herself, as if her exertions were capable of warming the chilly atmosphere.
From the kitchen, Linnie shouted, “Philip, are you joining us for dinner? We’re having sandwiches and fruit salad.”
“No, thanks.”
“We have more than enough food.”
“I’ll pass, Linnie,” he shouted. Then he frowned at Jada, who was guiding his daughter’s right foot into the tennis shoe and knotting the strings.
“Too tight!” Fancy protested. She fumbled with the strings, loosening them. Satisfied, she pointed her left foot, allowing Jada to slide the shoe on.
Penelope appeared in the doorway. “Philip, stay for dinner. You’ve been working all day, and—oh!” She pressed a hand to her generous bosom. “What’s going on in here? The vibrations are all wrong.”
Fancy, predictably charmed by Penelope’s mystical leanings, hopped down from Jada’s lap. Scrunching up her face, she did her best to channel adult distaste. “The room felt happy before Daddy came in,” she informed the quivering Siren. Then she aimed an accusing finger at Jada. “She started it.”
“She did? What happened?”
“Daddy was being nice. She’s acting like he’s a rowdy boy.” Fancy wagged her finger at Jada. “Mind your manners.”
Humiliation brought Jada to her feet. “Fancy, you’re imagining things,” she said with fading dignity.
Philip gave her a mulish look. “No, she’s not.”
Slapping down the magazine, Norah regarded Penelope. “Lover’s quarrel,” Norah told her. “I’d sit and watch the fireworks, but it’s been a long day.”
“What’s a quarrel?” Fancy asked her.
“Come, child.” The elegant Siren took her by the hand. “I’ll consider it my lucky day that you didn’t ask the definition of the other word.”
“Can I have chocolate milk with dinner? Penelope always has chocolate milk.”
“You may have two glasses if you’re good.”
Norah and Fancy went out. Penelope scurried to catch up.
Filling him in was not a task Jada wished to undertake.
Chapter 16
There were rules a smart man never broke. Don’t leave the toilet seat up. Walk away from the guy downing too many beers at the bar and looking for a brawl. Never insult another man’s wife, or his mother.
If a woman is fuming, give her a wide berth. The gentler sex wasn’t gentle when their dander was up. If the woman is your girlfriend, pray to God she’ll calm down—eventually.
“Can we take a walk?” He motioned toward the door.
“I’m not ready to talk.” She hit him with the death-stare.
“C’mon, Jada. We could both use some air.”
Thankfully, the suggestion put her in motion. She swept past him. A good deal, since her death-stare was making him jumpy.
It was also making him defensive.
Cutting across the grass, Jada threw him a glance from over her shoulder. She began to say something. Then she checked herself and kept moving.
Catching up, he matched her strides. When she looked away, presumably still unprepared to hash this out, he said, “Listen, I don’t want to fight. Couples don’t always agree. I’m sorry we have differing viewpoints. Can you at least try to understand why I’m protective about who enters Fancy’s life? She’s my kid, Jada. I’m trying to be a good father.”
“You’d do a better job if you kept an open mind.”
“About Millicent?”
“Yes, Philip. You’ve only spoken with her a few times. I’ve had the opportunity to get to know her. She doesn’t pose a threat to Fancy.”
“Can we go into this once we’re sure of her motives?” A delaying tactic wasn’t admirable, but he couldn’t think of a better way to defuse the situation.
The suggestion brought Jada to a halt. “I am sure. She asked me this morning. I spent the rest of the day hiding out in my office, making sure I didn’t run into her again. If you’re interested, I feel terrible about lying to her. She deserves better.”
Fear rolled through him, chilling his skin. “What did she ask you?”
“If Bodi came to Sweet Lake.”
“Then she is Bodi’s grandmother?” At some level, he’d managed to convince himself that Jada’s theories were ludicrous. A foolish gambit.
“I shut down the conversation before Millicent had a chance to explain. She didn’t marry until middle age. Best guess, she fell in love with Bodi’s grandfather while they were both teaching at the University of Chicago.”
The fear crawling over him brought out his fighting spirits. “I’m lost here,” he admitted, unable to temper the harshness in his voice. “How did you ‘shut down’ the conversation?”
“By faking a problem in the laundry requiring my immediate attention. I said I’d never heard of Bodi Wagner, and just left her standing there in the kitchen, devastated.” Jada’s dark eyes flashed. “What does it matter? Whoever she was to Bodi, she really cares about finding her. Millicent has been hiring detectives since Bodi ran away from Chicago. She’s been looking for a baker named Jada ever since.”
“Slow down. Millicent hired a PI to look for you?”
The fire went out of Jada’s eyes so quickly, his heart seized. “They didn’t have much else to go on,” she said in a hollow voice. “Bodi did tell Millicent about a black woman she’d become friends with. Then the calls stopped.”
In turmoil, Jada wound her arms around her waist. Regrets that were never hers to carry bent her spine with the weight of her despair. She looked like a woman preparing to walk into gale-force winds.
He wanted to pull her close but knew better. What right did he have to offer comfort, when his actions were the reason for her sorrow?
“Jada, how long were they in contact after Bodi left Chicago?”
“A month or two, I guess. Then Bodi stopped picking up Millicent’s calls.”
Sick-hearted, Philip stared at his feet. A matter of a few short weeks. A month, maybe two. Long enough for Bodi to run out of money and to try her hand at purse-snatching in Columbus—and to receive Penelope’s invitation to come back with her to Sweet Lake.
Long enough for a troubled eighteen-year-old to show up on his doorstep and change the trajectory of her life. And his.
Did Bodi stop calling home once she became pregnant? Numbly, Philip scraped the hair from his brow. Was she too embarrassed to tell her grandmother or great-aunt—or whoever Millicent was to her—she’d become a pregnant runaway? It was feasible Bodi took off from Chicago on a whim. He bore full responsibility for barring her from returning to the life she’d known.
A life that, on the surface, seemed nothing like the abusive past she’d described during their short marriage. There were too many pieces to the puzzle. None of them fit.
“I don’t get it. Millicent is a wealthy, retired college prof. Who abused Bodi?” He kicked a stone from the sidewalk, frustrated by his inability to figure it out. “She was abused—I’m sure of it. I saw the proof with my own eyes. You remember, right?”
It came as a relief when doubt creased Jada’s brow. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I remember. Something isn’t right. The cut on Bodi’s face when she first got to town, and the bruises. Someone had beaten her.”
“Exactly what she implied when I tried to get the details from her.” He recalled the welts marring Bodi’s angelic face, the purpling bruises scattered across her left shoulder. Other bruises on her ribcage.
Jada asked, “Did Bodi lie to us?”
“Hard to tell, but it’s not like she could fake the abuse. We saw the damage for ourselves.” Yet another reason not to get his six-year-old daughter mixed up in this. Millicent was a decent woman. Everything about her indicated a stable personality. But what of Bodi’s parents? If he gave Millicent permission to become part of Fancy’s life, how to keep the less-stable elements at bay?
A conclusion that must’ve become transparent. Jada lowered her arms listlessly to her sides.
“Well, I did what you asked,” she told him. “I pretended I’d never heard of Bodi Wagner. It just about broke Millicent. All those years searching, and for what?” She regarded the shadows lengthening across the street. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done to her.”
“Jada, I’m sorry. I never meant to put you in a bind. I just can’t . . .”
The words drifted into a miserable silence. Philip refused to bend. Doing so would put Fancy at risk. It would bring her into contact with the people who’d beaten her mother, who’d given Bodi ample reason to run away from Chicago.
Protecting his daughter came at a terrible cost. He’d lose the only woman he’d ever loved. By forcing Jada into an untenable position, he’d lose her.
Turning away, she said, “Fancy will be wondering where you are. We should get back.”
After they returned to Penelope’s house, Jada insisted Philip go in for dinner. She had no intention of joining him. The hurt feelings colliding between them were nearly tangible and might upset Fancy.
The others were already seated at the table, digging into their sandwiches as the conversation swirled. On the fly, Jada invented a problem at the inn demanding her attention.
The falsehood brought her favorite six-year-old scampering across the kitchen. “You can’t go,” Fancy implored her. Leaning into Jada’s thighs, she faked a crestfallen expression that didn’t reach her eyes. With all the attention being lavished on her, not to mention the promise of new dress-up clothes after Norah and Penelope completed the flower girl dress, Fancy remained in an ebullient mood.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jada promised her. She regarded Linnie. “Why don’t we take Fancy out for ice cr
eam after you return the shoes to the store in Fairfield? Your amazing flower girl has made a selection. We should celebrate.”
Linnie nearly spit out a bite of chicken salad. “She did? She made a decision?”
“She’s going with the taupe ballerina slippers.”
Fancy bounced on the balls of her feet. “Because Jada likes them.”
“I do too. The taupe slippers are my favorite!” Linnie fell back in her chair with a sigh. “Another item off my list. We will celebrate. I’ll spring for the ice cream.”
Jada looked at Philip, lingering by the counter. “Mind if I pick Fancy up from school tomorrow? I’ll bring her home at dinnertime.”
The subtext of the query sent a pained expression through his gaze: a disagreement between adults shouldn’t affect a child. Nothing they’d discussed regarding Millicent would put Jada’s affection for his daughter at risk.
“Sounds great,” he murmured.
Giving Fancy one last kiss, she hurried to her car.
The prospect of spending the night alone held no appeal. Darkness had fallen across the sleepy town, and Jada drove slowly through Sweet Lake Circle. Out of habit, she called to check in with her parents. They were happily watching the nightly news and planned an early bedtime. Hanging up, she drove up the hill leading away from town and to the Wayfair. She felt out of sorts, too wound up for anything but a good hour shuffling through paperwork.
The warm April night had lured many of the guests out to the rocking chairs on the veranda. Two boys were playing checkers on the floor by the stairwell, their heads bent with concentration. Nervously, Jada scanned the adults lingering nearby. Millicent spent some nights outdoors, chatting with the other guests.
But not tonight.
At the front desk, the new hire Darrisha Ray was taking over for Mr. Uchida. He stepped away from the desk as Jada entered.
“Jada, do you have a moment?” With a frown, he led her to a corner of the lobby.
The Season of Silver Linings Page 20